


Trustworthy

by taylor_tut



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Protective Max, Protective Max (Camp Camp), Sick Character, Sickfic, sick david
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-05
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-07-25 12:30:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16197578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: A request from my tumblr: "David gets sick and Gwen is out for the day and the kids really don‘t know what to do with David when they notice that something is off - Max eventually finds some Tylenol but David is super out of it and thinks that the kids want to poison him. It takes Gwen to come back and convince David to take the medicine and Max feels kinda bad for making David distrust him (and of course David feels bad later on for making Max upset)"





	Trustworthy

When Gwen had knocked on David's cabin door last night, she'd been frantic. He'd calmed her down enough to get her to admit what was wrong (which may or may not have required a few mg of Xanax to achieve, but hey, whatever works), and she'd told him that her younger brother had called to tell her that their father had just been admitted to the hospital after a heart attack. He was okay, she reassured David, but of course, that didn't take away the worry, nor did it make her feel any less guilty about the fact that she really hadn't visited her parents since she'd moved out for college, and now she'd nearly lost one. She'd told him that she would be okay, that she'd just needed him to put his arms around her and tell her it would be okay (which he did) and to understand if her thoughts were otherwise occupied the next few days (which he would). However, David was her CBFL, and a good CBFL didn't just sympathize with a personal emergency, they did what they could to solve it. David had told her to go home. No, he'd bought her a train ticket and told her that he wouldn't accept "no" for an answer. She hated to leave him alone—it was difficult enough to handle the campers between the two of them—but he'd told her that her family came first and that he'd wanted her to go. So she'd left. 

David had really thought that he could get through a whole day without her. Probably, he could have: just not this PARTICULAR day. 

This particular day was well over 95 degrees, and after a week of temperatures in the low 80's, the campers were hot and miserable. When campers were hot and miserable, they complained to David. It was too sticky to entertain themselves, so they desperately needed activities, and what made one small group happy bored another, so instead of allowing a free day as he'd planned, he was running between different areas of the camp to try to keep everyone occupied. 

This particular day was also only three days before the Camp Corp officials came down to make their routine inspection, so in between checking on campers and the normal duties that he and Gwen shared such as helping with meal prep and replying to any bills, mail, phone calls, or other correspondence, David was frantically trying to clean the whole campground to ensure that they not only passed, but passed with flying colors. An A rating wasn't good enough—he needed an A+, and he was determined to do what he had to get it, even if it meant staying up late and getting up early, or skipping meals. He could live with a bit of lost sleep; he'd make it up when Gwen got back. And he definitely wasn't hungry.

The third and final thing working against him on this particular day was the bug he'd woken up with. Despite feeling run-down the past few days, he'd pushed through out of necessity, but when his alarm had woken him this morning, he'd immediately figured out that he was in for a long day by the way that the noise throbbed in his head and the dim pre-sunrise light that streamed through his windows made his eyes burn. A chill ran down his spine, which he was pretty sure wasn't because of the weather, and even just moving to shut off his alarm made all his joints and muscles ache. 

Ten year old kids could smell weakness, David decided. For the first time since the camp had opened, the kids were awake and arguing with one another before breakfast, and though David really wanted to break up their fights, he'd just spent an hour cleaning up litter by the lake before he washed his hands and helped get the kids their meals, so he really didn't have the energy to do so.

He definitely didn't have an appetite. In fact, the smell of food was nauseating, so much so that he poured himself a cup of black coffee to drown out the smell of eggs and sugary syrup, fearing that even the bitter comfort of a good dark roast wouldn't be enough for him to keep it together. He focused on his breathing, in through his nose and out through his mouth, trying to sit still enough that the bench didn't feel like it was floating in the lake. 

When he opened his eyes to the sound of Preston screeching at a wedgie from Nurf, David found that Max had, at some point, come to sit across from him, his tray of food finished except for a small container of applesauce. 

"Good morning, Max," David greeted, trying for cheerful but landing somewhere nearer pitiful. "Can I help you with something?"

Max scoffed. "I doubt that," he replied curtly, ominously. Blood was in the water, and Max was the first keen predator to detect it. "You don't look like you could do much of anything right now. Does Gwen know you're s—"

"Gwen had a family emergency," David cut him off, superstitiously not allowing him to finish the word and make it real. A small ember of concern flashed in nowhere but his eyes, and anyone who didn't know Max as well as David had come to would have missed it. "She'll be fine," he reassured. "She just had to take care of something."

"I don't remember asking," Max disclaimed, secretly grateful to know she'd be alright. "But seriously, can't you call her? There's no way you can run the camp like this alone."

David shook his head. "I'm fine," he lied easily. "I'll be good to go once the breakfast energy kicks in!" 

Max decided that if he had to pick his battles, that the fact that he'd watched David skip the breakfast line in favor of coffee was not one worth his energy. So he just shrugged. 

"Whatever you say, camp man," he dismissed, hopping down from the table and returning to where Nikki and Neil were finishing up their own breakfasts. 

 

Max watched David run around like a chicken with its head cut off for the next several hours until lunch rolled around, then for an hour after that, until Neil tripped and scraped his knee. As if responding with some kind of superhuman intuition, David whirled around just before it happened, rushing to his side and hitting the ground hard on his knees.

"Oh my gosh," David fretted, feeling a bit woozy at the sight of the red blood that normally wouldn't phase him even a bit, "are you alright?"

Neil nodded, swatting away David's unusually clumsy hands. "I'm fine; it's just a scratch," he replied, narrowing his eyes at David. "Are YOU okay?" He knew that Max had mentioned something about David seeming off that day, but Max could be a bit... obsessive when it came to David and his motives, so he hadn't really even half-listened. Max was standing beside him (he'd tripped him) still, clearly thinking the same thing. 

"Let's get you to the counselor's cabin," David continued as if Neil hadn't spoken, possibly concerned that if he derailed his train of thought for even a moment that he wouldn't be able to find it again. "We should get that cleaned up. Can you walk?"

Neil nodded, but Max helped him hobble to the cabin, anyway—even if it wasn't dangerous, it still stung, and Neil didn't have a great pain tolerance—but it was David that seemed to need more assistance. His gait was unsteady, like he was dizzy, and only slowed as they walked further. As soon as Max helped Neil sit on the computer chair, he shoved David down to the ground in front of him.

"Don't move, both of you," he commanded, feeling a bit guilty about Neil and fearing that David might pass out if he went off looking for medical supplies. Having rifled through all the shit in this cabin before, Max knew exactly what kind of inventory they had and where it was, so beelined for the bathroom cabinet and shoved some Neosporin, a few bandages, and some ibuprofen into his hoodie pocket before grabbing a water bottle and returning. Neil now was sitting forward, his knee barely even bleeding anymore, trying to maneuver David into a fully-seated position and mumbling something that sounded horrifyingly like "please don't pass out on me."

"Max," Neil called, panic in his eyes, and Max rushed forward and shoved David back on his ass. "You were right; I think he's really sick," Neil confided. "Feel his forehead." Max reached one hand to Neil's and the other to David's and winced at the difference: David's skin was hot and frighteningly dry in comparison. 

"Drink this," Max demanded, uncapping the water bottle before shoving it into David's hand, "and take two of these before your brain cooks." 

David took the water gratefully, but when he looked down at the pills, he paused. Max didn't really notice, as he turned his attention to doctoring up Neil's scraped knee with surprising gentleness and intense focus. When he turned around to see David just staring at the ibuprofen, he rolled his eyes. 

"Well? Take the pills," Max repeated impatiently.

David set them on the computer table unsteadily, his eyes rolling around as he moved. Max had to admit, it was beginning to make him uncomfortable. 

"Come on, David," he pleaded, "you're starting to freak me out. Just take the medicine like a good little camp counselor." 

David sighed. "Whatever you're pulling today," he said, his voice rough and tired, "I don't have time for it." Max bit his lower lip. Had he really made David distrust him so much that he was suspicious of a little kindness?

"I'm trying to help," Max defended, "which is a one-time deal, but you need it. Unless I need to call Gwen?"

Neil nodded even though David shook his head. "I think we should," Neil offered. "He seems really out of it, Max."

"It's the pills or reinforcements," Max threatened. David was used to ultimatums from Max, but he never fell for them. 

"Let's get back to playing," David suggested, hoisting himself up using the table as leverage. "We don't need to... uh... do... or call...?" His face went pale once upright, and he swayed on his feet, blinking hard as if trying to see clearly. Black dots began to overtake his vision and, unable to blink them away, made everything around him dark.

"David, I think you should sit down," Neil said urgently, hopping down from the chair just in time for David to collapse halfway into it. 

"David!" Max exclaimed, the last thing David heard before he passed out completely. 

 

When he woke up, Max and Neil were hovering over him, Neil minding a wet cloth that they'd placed over his forehead and Max clearly trying too hard to stay calm with someone on the phone.

"I don't know; I don't think he was feeling well this morning, but he just went down—oh, thank fuck," Max breathed, "he's waking up." There was a pause before Max took the phone away from his ear and glared at David. 

"Gwen wants to talk to you," he warned, pressing the phone near David's ear. He didn't have to be close to hear her shouting. "David, take the DAMN pills. You're an idiot. I'm on my way back," she warned. Before David could argue that she didn't have to come back just for him, Max took the phone back. His hands, David noticed, were shaking. 

"How do you feel?" Neil asked, just quietly enough that David could still hear Max asking Gwen how long she'd be, what they should do, if she was SURE they didn't need to call an ambulance.

"I'm—" a sharp look from somehow all three of them made him bite down on his "fine" and instead let his eyes close exhaustedly, taking inventory of his body for the first time since that morning. "—Sorry," he decided upon. "I scared both of you."

Max hung up the phone and turned back to them, a dark, hard-to-read expression on his face. 

"Will you take the pills now?" Max asked, reaching up and sweeping them from the tabletop back into his hand when David offered his palm. He swallowed them with a sip of water. 

"I don't know what came over me," David said. "I shouldn't have distrusted you. It was the fever talking."

It wasn't, probably, Max knew. It was the fever keeping him from biting his tongue, but it wasn't a fever-induced paranoia. David made a conscious choice to trust Max every time he planned something sinister, but he wasn't an idiot. He was just way, way too optimistic. 

"I know I give you a lot of shit," Max admitted, "but I'm calling a truce—just until Gwen gets back. Then I'm free to make your life a living hell again."

David cracked a smile. "Deal," he agreed, though it would be a whole week after David's fever broke that Max attempted to pull even a small prank again. If David's trust was something he could still have, it would do him some good not to break it. 

 


End file.
